Ding Dong ditch during sex and paying for a ridiculous movie

*the entrance to the Alamo.  San Antonio, TX

 

 

Come on in.  Take heed though.  You’re entering my innermost thoughts here, and that is 24/7 people.

  Who else do I have to talk to any way?  

 Her majesty is down with a cold.  I think it’s either the allergies or the air conditioning.  She is sleeping now. 

 She’s actually really awake but when I ask her questions she immediately answers:  “mommmmm, whaaaat….” in that irritable kind of way that makes me skulk back to my computer desk and leave well enough alone. 

We’ve come in late almost every night since I’ve been here.  anywhere from midnight to 3 a.m.   Don’t worry, I got her a yogurt from the free breakfast, and a raisin bagle.    She’ll be fine. 

 We saw Bruno last night.  If you read this warning before wasting your ten bucks,  DONT SEE IT!  That is, if you are civilized. 

 This movie is absolute crap with slightly humorous moments thrown in.  It’s really gross, nasty, sicko and blech….  It sort of left me sitting in my seat as the credits rolled, saying to myself:  what the hell did I just see, anyway?

     the best part about the movie was the popcorn.  

  What!  I AM being nice! 

 So today is Saturday,  I fly out Monday.  If not for my son, coming in, I would’ve flown out sooner.  I think that I have seen and done what was grand for a vacation. 

 We were gonna go to the beach, but it plans to thunderstorm today, and well, if Charity’s car had air conditioning then maybe…  but it doesn’t. 

 It doesn’t. 

 We spend the better part of the driving in the hot sun, feeling as though we are being “air popped” inside a popcorn machine.  Sweat dripping down places unmentionable. 

   My heart sunk a little each time I had to step from hotel a/c to the “oven” that is her car.  

 ”hurry up!”  I urge her on,  “please get-the-breeze-going”  then  I realize:  The breeze is another word for nature’s blow dryer, set on high heat.

  Don’t even think about doing hair and make up either.  You’ll see.  There’s pictures from vacation where I have no makeup on and my hair is just there, hanging on my head.  Gave up a long time ago. 

   Our hotel room is nice.  Both of them actually.  We moved from the historic one and now we are in a nice, brand new beautiful, tastefully decorated in wonderful “new home” decorations.  It’s really pretty and welcoming.  wanna see?

 

 

 

There are doorbells on the outside of the doors here.  Last night, Charity and I heard our next door neighbors having sex.  after plugging my ears and singing la-la-la a few times,  (dude!  only lasted about 30 seconds lol)   Charity suggested we go ring their doorbell while they were gettin it on….Not even I’m THAT mean.  lol. 

Photo Essay~Finding pleasure in the little things

 

 

I saw this (young) grandmother spinning her beautiful grandson around and I didn’t catch it at first.  So I gave her my “business” card.  Explained my blog and she was happy to oblige me with another spin.  I’m sure her grand baby was happy too. 

 

*Charity and I found this baby duckling along with 6 others on the river with the mother.  She was a doting mommy, and this was the rogue baby, always swimming off to new adventures, much to the chagrin of the mother.  After all, those river tour boats come awfully close to them. 

 

 

 We found the shade of this palm tree in the middle of the Botanical Gardens in San Antonio, where of late, the temps have been 99 or better.  Texas is in the middle of a drought and ordered to drain all unnecessary fountains, and only water the lawn “X” amount of times or face stiff fines.  Today, God watered San Antonio in a brief, but merciful down pour.

 

 

 

*Charity was extremely pissed at me for snapping this picture of a bride to be who was being photographed  by another photographer.   she called it bordering on creepy.  I’m calling her, Princess in the park. 

 

 

*Here, Charity is in a pleasing, repeating pattern of light and geometry.  “What kind of picture is that?”  She asks me.  “I’m just walking!”    Walking indeed. 

 

Yellow flowers on lily pads.  Drab yellow in the stark light of noon-ish.   We works with whats we can gets. 

Up to No damn good

 

 

You just knew I wasn’t gonna be good this trip didn’t ya?    muahahaha….

Actually, it was quite an innocent excursion to possibly the biggest country dance bar I’ve ever seen. 

  Once my eyes adjusted to the lights (or the lack there of),   I had more lights to adjust to.   There were spotlights and huge TV monitors and the band… 

 a huge band who knew their country music.  with a girl fiddle player in the middle of all that testosterone up there, and a drummer who’s set lit up with flashing LED lights at the end of the song.  

 

There was a camera man… ( a camera man??)  Yes.  All the better to walk around the dance floor video taping your bumping and grinding ass with a stranger and then displaying it on 52 inch TV’s above the crowd.

  And there was a huge table by the stage.  Specifically if you were feeling Coyote Ugly, and you needed your ass to be seen by EVERY one as opposed to MOST every one.  

 

 

 Crap.  not really intimidating unless… 

 you can’t two-step to save you life, and/or  you haven’t danced in a club in about 2 years or so… left, left, right…Yeah right!  

  It took 2 hours, two cranberry and vodkas and one bud light, and still. 

  I was still 44 and still Charity’s mommy. 

 No one asked Sweetiegirlz to dance.   It was middle school all over again! lol.

  Everyone asked Charity to dance, and she turned them all down! 

 She did.  Ask her!   

 

Even the bartender knew what he was doing. I told him to “surprise me” with a drink of his choice.  1 hour later, I came back and said,  “give me what you made me last time.” and…guess what?  He did.   

Me:  How do you do that?  there are so many people here.  How do you remember my drink.

Him:  I guess I’ve been working here a long time, maybe too long.

 

 On this particular dance floor, people knew their dancing.  It wasn’t left left right. 

It was left left right twirl twirl lift that 99 pound girl in the air, let her straddle your waist, hopefully don’t fall down, then start all over again, and end with a dip.   srsly.

  Some of these people seemed like they were born in this bar.  In fact, they were the Michael Jackson’s of the Country and Western dance.    It got better.

  One of Charity’s friend’s came.  He was determined (but not likely) to teach me this particular dancing.  

  There were jokes about “no body puts Baby in a corner!” 

    In the end and through the night while the band rested in between sets,  there was hip hop, (scandalous mixes going on however,) Hall and Oates vs. hip hop. uhhhh, yep.  We’re still trying to figure out if  the DJ was as drunk as most of us were.  

    Meanwhile,  I sat and watched, transfixed on this dance, trying to learn it by rote. 

  I met a young (27) dude named Alan who owns his own Auto Mech shop nearby.  His girl had recently left him, and he showed me his daughter on his cell phone camera. 

 He was quiet, this person.  As reserved as I was, in the midst of the energy.  Preferring to sulk in the dark and nurse a beer.  

  I told him about my husband, and my family, and how I came to be in Texas, in the middle of July, in a Country western dance club at 1 a.m. And how I still can’t two-step, no matter how hard I try. 

 

And he told me, “Thank you, for talking with me Renee”